


This Next Song Is For You, Dean Winchester

by LadyDrace



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Fallen Castiel, M/M, Season/Series 06 Spoilers, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 14:39:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Cas can still sing like an angel and Dean finds himself being talked into things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Next Song Is For You, Dean Winchester

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: Biggelois. Any mistakes are purely because I ignored her advice.

Dean supposed he should have known, what with all the mentions of angelic choirs and whatnot in ancient texts, but somehow it still surprised the hell out of him when he realized that Cas could sing. And not just sing. Castiel, the fallen angel, could fucking sing so grown men cried, sinners repented and women of all ages melted into puddles of various sizes on church floors.

 

Sam could never fucking know this, but the first time Dean heard it, his eyes got moist. He hadn't truly cried since he was a baby and there he was on the verge of a minor flood, just because Cas had to lose all his awesome abilities and instead keep the one super power that was absolutely useless.

 

Okay, so maybe he had one or two less useless ones left. Like the Puppy Eyes Of Doom which had somehow convinced Dean that coming to a frickin' church to hear his significant other sing for some charity gig was an excellent idea. Significant other. _S.O_. Dean much preferred that title over other and considerably more girly variations like _boyfriend_ or _lover_. Or the ever-annoyingly oblique _partner_. _S.O_. made it feel just a little bit Star Trek to him. Sam was most definitely never hearing about that one either, but it made Dean feel seriously cool thinking of himself as Captain Kirk with Castiel by his side like a regular Mr. Spock, just as constantly baffled by Human behaviour as the Vulcan original.

 

Only, in _this_ five-year mission (which, just like the TV-series, had turned out a _lot_ longer) there was a lot more gay sex. Although, Dean _did_ find himself wondering about Kirk and Spock. Especially considering his new and revolutionary understanding of the subtle signs of not-quite-Humans indicating that they would very much like to have sex right now, thank you. Now _there_ was a useful skill!

 

Dean's smirking got him an outraged look from a little old lady in the pew in front of him, who for some reason found staring at him a more valid pursuit than watching Sex-On-Legs and his doo-wap girls getting ready next to the altar. Because the choirmaster had listened to Cas for all of five seconds before declaring that he was giving a solo performance and any decent lead performer needed some back-up singers. Not that any of their voices could hold a candle to Cas' in Dean's not-so-humble opinion, but at least they were hot. In a Sunday school kind of way. Which, somehow, only made the whole thing a little bit kinkier.

 

If Dean hadn't already been to Hell, he would really start to wonder if he wasn't heading there again.

 

People all looked ahead when the choirmaster tapped his artsy-fartsy little sheet music holder thingy and held up his hand for silence. Even though it seemed like people were mostly keeping quiet, there were also squirmy kids and people restlessly leafing through their own song-books or bibles. That left the church full of rustling and shuffling, even after the doo-wap girls started their bit.

 

Then Cas began his.

 

In two seconds flat a hush descended so thoroughly that Dean felt you could almost slice through it like pie. And even though he'd built up a little resistance to the super power of fallen angel song after catching a rehearsal or two, Dean was exactly the same. Only, he had the added perk of knowing what that voice sounded like in other places. Like in bed.

 

Even after falling, Cas never really lost that strange thunder-rolling-in / I've-been-out-drinking-and-smoking-all-night voice that came with his badass persona. So different from the meek, little religious man whose body he'd sort of inherited after Jimmy went off to heaven, somewhere between getting blown up and put back together. But weirdly, his singing voice was a tenor. A light and shimmering thing that made Dean think of spring and curtains blowing in warm winds and freshly baked strawberry pie and... and Sam could never fucking know!

 

Cas and his doo-wap girls led the room through a quivering rendition of Schubert's Ave Maria and by the end, Dean was completely unsurprised at seeing tears on a lot of faces around the church. Dean himself just needed a good roll of his shoulders and then he was cool. He was eternally grateful that Sam was far, far away and couldn't mock him if he had to sniff a couple of times too. Which he didn't. _At all_.

 

Castiel himself, former angel of the Lord and all that, was still largely unaware of the effect his singing or indeed his very presence tended to have on the people around him. In this particular instance the church collection tin was stuffed to the rim, there were queues at the confession booths and random people would occasionally breeze past and try to touch Cas, as if he were Jesus himself. Dean, on his part, was past feeling guilty over the fact that mostly Cas just got him really fucking hot.

 

Back in the day when the apocalypse had been averted, Sam was back out of the cage and finally had all his marbles right, Dean had still been too hung up on the details to realize which way the wind was blowing. Cas had barely taken his first sip of humanity after being thrown out of Heaven, but things were looking bright on Earth for the first time in years.

 

But, as it turns out, even a brush with doomsday isn't enough to rid a guy of a life-long obsession with playing it straight. This wasn't to be taken too literally, though. Dean had played on both sides of the fence occasionally. No, what really made things difficult was the way he kept regarding Cas as an innocent, despite all the times he'd seen him go nuclear on the hellish hordes. The thought that Cas' innocence (or rather, lack thereof) might have had something to do with him falling in the first place never even occurred to Dean.

 

It took months of brotherly advice, delivered with either comfort food or a punch in the face, depending on how much of an ass Dean was being, before Sam had finally had enough. There had been a lot of yelling and at least _some_ wrestling before Sam had loudly declared that Dean had better fucking wake up and realize that the world was in fact NOT ending and that it wouldn't do so just because he allowed himself to have something he wanted. The added sour note that 'if Dean didn't debauch Cas soon, then someone else _definitely_ would' was just an added slap in Dean's face.

 

Because by then, Cas had of course tried everything except outright jumping Dean's bones to get his attention and Sam kept insisting that it almost hurt to watch by the end. But no man is made of stone. Least of all Dean who was actually very easy when he was sure nobody would get hurt. So the combined pressure of Sam's reality checks and Cas nearly sitting himself on Dean's lap after a few beers one night finally made the dam break. And boy, did it break. One night at that motel, and Sam left them a note saying that he was going to Bobby's until they were done screwing each other senseless and they'd better not contact him before then. And they hadn't.

 

After that, Cas had sort of become a third hunter to their duo and it turned out he was actually quite capable as a Human, once Dean actually let him. Even more disturbing was how much it turned Dean on to watch Cas shoot and punch and exorcise his way through things he'd previously only had to touch to defeat. And oddly, it went the other way as well. Cas had been like a fucking hurricane unleashed when Dean stopped mothering him. And if Dean had thought he was going wild in battle, it was nothing compared to the goddamn nuclear meltdown happening in bed after a really good hunt.

 

Who said you can't teach an old dog new tricks?

 

And so they ended up at this. They were recuperating at Bobby's after a long couple of months on the road, when Cas found out about the charity events going on in town, and despite being fallen and all that, he still went to church and still had some sort of faith. So while Dean winded down fixing cars with Bobby, and Sam was out somewhere, hopefully getting laid, Cas did his own unwinding by helping the poor.

 

Dean was totally fine with that, as long as he didn't have to get involved. But of course, when Cas started asking him to show up at the events, he hadn't been able to say no. Especially since Cas' days of innocence were well and truly behind him and he had asked Dean about it just as he was getting ready to come his brains out. But even the sex aside, Dean dared anyone to try and say no to Cas when he truly wanted something. Like getting Dean to go to church.

 

Dean finally relented, on a few conditions. Sam could never know, Dean would not pray or sing and he expected to be paid in kinky, sexual favours immediately upon their return to Bobby's afterwards. Which was how he found himself waiting at the back of a slowly emptying church on a lazy Sunday morning which he would otherwise have spent in bed. But despite evidence to the contrary, Dean could be really fucking patient when there was something worth waiting for.

 

Naturally, Cas had to say goodbye to every person in the whole church before finally, fucking finally, joining Dean at the back so they could get out of there. The Impala shone in the morning sun when they got in and purred deliciously from the hours and hours of attention Dean had lavished her with lately when he turned the key. He almost felt a little guilty for only driving a couple of blocks before pulling into a small tree-lined side-road and parked there so he could jump Cas' bones and not be in danger of giving any poor, old church-goers heart attacks.

 

“Last time, Cas, I swear-” Dean panted against Cas' lips, which greedily met his own as soon as he leaned across the seat.

 

“Yes, Dean. Until next time,” Cas kissed back. Dean debated with himself whether it was worth arguing and decided against it in favour of getting some action. After all, Dean was totally a man of action.

 

End.


End file.
